


Collection of Untold Stories

by EzrasHargrave



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: One Shot, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24187453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzrasHargrave/pseuds/EzrasHargrave
Summary: A collection of various one-shots I've written over time, that never got to experience life is a full blown story. Whenever I'm bored and end up writing a quick story or a 'first chapter' for a story, I'll generally post it here from now on if I can't find the motivation to write it into a full fic.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. Lord Camelot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Camelot
> 
> Summary: Reincarnation. Such tricky business, always has been, and always will be. Sometimes mistakes are made, and memories are retained. Galahad merely wished to rest in peace. But to find his way back to the Throne of Heroes, he must live a full life as Perseus
> 
> Crossovers: Fate/Series + Percy Jackson & The Olympians

Today was the day of the school field trip to the Metropolitan Art Museum… And Sir Galahad, Knight of the Round Table, would be lying if he told anybody he was excited for the trip. No, he was probably the least excited person for this trip, and with good reason.

For you see, Galahad wasn't a normal person like everyone else. He was a reincarnated Heroic Spirit, who bore all of his memories from his time both while he was alive, and during his time in the Throne of Heroes.

Truthfully, he didn't quite know how he'd ended up being reincarnated. The last thing he remembered was sitting his own little world in the Throne of Heroes, sitting atop one of Camelot's walls and smiling as he looked over the Kingdom. While he'd obtained the Holy Grail, he had simply returned it to the Heavens. He had no desire to make a wish on that chalice, he was a firm believer that hard work was what you needed to achieve your goals.

But there he had sat, atop his place in the Throne of Heroes… And then suddenly the next thing he recalled was crying. It was strange, as Galahad hadn't cried in many years. It was then he had realised why he was crying… and why he couldn't move his body as well as he wished he was about to. He'd been reborn… And he was a _baby_!

Perseus- or Percy- Jackson had been the name he was given, and growing up was difficult, to say the least. From a young age, the world didn't seem to want him to grow up pleasantly like a normal human boy. Somehow, he seemed to end up doing this accidentally on things like school trips, without ever meaning to do so!

During one of his school trips in fifth-grade, they'd gone to the Saratoga battlefield, and he'd had an accident with a revolutionary war cannon. Honestly, he hadn't been aiming for the school bus, he was just fascinated of some of the things humans had come up with after his time. But he'd accidentally hit the school bus and got expelled for it. And, during his fourth-grade trip, they'd taken a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool. His elbow happened to bump a lever on the catwalk and the entire class took an unexpected swim.

That was unpleasant for Galahad, he hadn't learned how to swim as of yet at the time. He'd learned since then, in case something similar happened again, but since then he didn't particularly enjoy water any longer.

The sound of a cry was noticed by Galahad, and he turned his head to witness Nancy Bobofit throwing her sandwich in wads at Grover Underwood, one of the handicapped boys in the school.

Instantly, a spark of anger filled Galahad. As a knight, he found trivial things such as bullying _detestable_. However, he quelled that anger, and instead decided to teach the girl a lesson. While he didn't openly use his powers in public, Galahad was not above using them to protect people. And one of his skills from his time as a Servant would be quite useful in at least protecting Grover for the majority of the bus ride.

He gently, almost lazily, pointed a finger towards Grover. Nobody around him noticed, he was rather quiet and so he was left alone. And as Nancy prepared to throw yet another wad of sandwich, Galahad invoked the name of his skill. **_"Obscurant Wall of Chalk."_**

Nobody seemed to notice as a very brief, gentle, light covered Grover, as it happened to be as they crossed to one of the cracks of the building and the light shone onto him anyway, and Galahad then lowered his hand, pleased with his work.

As the sandwich wad left Nancy's hand and flew towards Grover, the handicapped student's form very briefly flickered. Abruptly, the wad soared backwards towards Nancy, as if it had bounced off of Grover at an impossible angle. The girl barely had time to even open her eyes in shock before she was hit in the face with her own wad of sandwich.

Galahad smiled as he witnessed this, and was also quite happy to see that Nancy didn't throw anything more towards Grover for the rest of the trip. While Galahad wasn't friends with Grover by any means, he didn't think he'd even so much as spoken with the boy, he still wasn't cold hearted enough to leave the boy to fend for himself.

He slowly let out another sigh and once again directed his gaze to outside of the window. This world he lived in felt so incredibly dull. Perhaps that was unfair, after all it was far more peaceful than it was during his own time, but at his core he was a knight. A knight was someone who fought and protected. Yet there was no need to protect anyone, other than his mother in this life, and so he found himself so bored.

These thoughts plagued his mind as he climbed off the bus and Mr. Brunner began to lead the museum tour.

Galahad took his time looking around as they were led through, past marble statues and glass cases. It brought a joyful smile to his face, pleased that such a civilisation had managed to stand the tests of time. But these thoughts also led to sadness, as a fact came to mind.

Nobody knew where the remains of Camelot lay other than himself. He alone knew the location of the castle in which his King had ruled, but none would ever see it unless he guided them. Perhaps Camelot had been hidden too long, however. Perhaps, when he was older, he would lead an expedition into the great kingdom so that all would know that the story of King Arthur was no myth.

He vaguely listened to Mr. Brunner as he spoke about the stele they were gathered around, however for the most part he wasn't paying too much attention. While he could appreciate that such a civilisation had managed to stand the tests of time through their art, he simply found himself missing the works of Camelot more, and more. Honestly, the stories seemed to get so many facts and details wrong!

Galahad was snapped out of his thoughts as he felt someone's gaze on him. He subtly, almost impossibly subtly, tensed up. This was a gaze of malevolence, something he'd felt quite a fair bit at Yancy Academy… But he'd mostly felt it in Math Class.

 _'Mrs. Dodds,'_ Galahad thought to himself, not glancing at the woman. Ever since the woman first lay eyes upon him, she'd decided he was Devil Spawn. Galahad didn't often get in trouble, but when he did, Mrs Dodds would be there to administer the punishment. She'd point that crooked finger of hers at him and, before she could even let the words 'now, honey' come out of her mouth, he knew he'd be getting at least a week of after-school detention.

Still, he did his best to ignore the woman and focus on Mr. Brunner as he spoke about the Greek funeral art.

After a while, Nancy snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and Mr. Brunner paused and looked at Nancy. "Something you wish to share with the rest of us, Miss Bobofit?"

Nancy froze, and the class snickered at the girl being caught. Mr Brunner had radar ears, nothing seemed to escape his hearing. "No, no sir."

Mr Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

Nancy looked at the picture, and bit her lip. "I don't know, sir."

"A shame," Mr. Brunner said. "Perhaps someone else could answer this question for us instead… Ah, Mr Jackson? Perhaps you could enlighten us?"

Galahad quirked an eyebrow, before his eyes focused on the picture of the stele. He recognised this one, because he found it to be quite morbid. The brain always seemed to remember the darker things in life. "That is Kronos eating his children."

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, not satisfied by his statement. "And he did this because…"

"Because Kronos was the King of the Titans," Galahad continued slowly, recalling the information gradually. "And he received a prophecy that one day, one of his children would overthrow him as King. So he decided to counteract this by eating his children. But his wife, Rhea, was annoyed by this after five children and decided to hide baby Zeus, giving Kronos a rock to eat instead. Then, when Zeus was grown up, he tricked Kronos into drinking something horrible that made him throw up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind Galahad, which the young man promptly ignored.

"-and so there was a war between the Gods and Titans," Galahad continued, "and the Gods won."

"Very good, Mr Jackson," Mr. Brunner nodded in approval at Galahad's explanation. "But, now, I shall pose to you a more philosophical question. Why do you think it is important to know these things in real life?"

Galahad tilted his head softly, furrowing his brow. He didn't like the way he'd been asked that. It sounded normal to anyone else, but Galahad was used to the double meanings that questions could have. A knight he might have been, he also had to deal with a fair amount of politics in his time. Bribing, underhanded deals… Hell, he'd even been sent a few marriage proposals!

Galahad answered with what he thought was a very important lesson, "Because everything we learn from school can be applied, even in ways we don't expect it too. Most students might claim that Math is a pointless subject, but we'll use it all the time to manage our finances. Some will claim English is boring, but it's important we know how to write formally when sending out letters to get things like jobs. While I do not yet know the important of knowing Greek Mythology, I'm sure that one day I'll discover just what it is."

Mr. Brunner smiled, nodding in approval at the answer. "Full credit to you, Mr Jackson. The things we learn in school can always be applied to real life, even when you will least expect it. On that note, I believe that it is now time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted outside, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like a bunch of- in Galahad's opinion- fools. They all gathered on the front steps of the museum, as a huge storm was brewing overhead.

The storm somewhat worried Galahad, if he was quite honest. Ever since Christmas, the weather had been quite unnatural. They'd had snowstorms, flooding, and even wildfires from lightning strikes.

 _'My king give me strength,'_ Galahad thought to himself as he took a seat on the steps by himself. His lunch box sat on his lap and he ate quietly by himself, simply looking over the other students as they enjoyed their day.

In a way, Galahad was pleased that life was so peaceful. He'd lost many of his comrades during the wars, and since he'd ascended to the heavens after achieving the grail he'd missed the battle of Camlann in which the Kingdom fell.

But now he was happy to see children that didn't have to live in fear of war and were simply able to enjoy the childhood they'd been denied.

Galahad's joy at seeing such interactions was cut short as his senses tingled. In fiction, people were often said to have a sixth sense of sorts, that allowed them to sense when something dangerous was about to happen, or if someone dangerous was nearby. Contrary to what people believed, this was not fiction. Galahad himself had gotten a sixth sense such as that after years as a knight, and currently it was going haywire.

Galahad somewhat forcefully wolfed down the rest of his meal, and chugged what remained of his water bottle, before throwing both in the trash and making his way back into the museum. As he did so, he felt something was following him from within the shadows.

 _'This presence…'_ It was one Galahad had associated with that of the feeling Mrs. Dodds and Mr. Brunner gave off. Both had given off subtle presences, unique in their own way. Mr. Brunner felt like nature, a spring breeze. While Mrs. Dodds felt like a raging fire, and the kind of battle presence a Berserker might have had in a grail war. But both were definitely dangerous.

This presence was no different, though he couldn't quite pin down the kind of presence they gave off. All he knew was that they had malicious intentions towards him, which was why he walked deeper into the museum, away from everyone else. He'd have to fight with his Shield, as he didn't hold any sword at the moment.

Once he was sure they were deep enough into the museum, he summoned his Noble Phantasm. The large, cross-shaped, shield stood by his side as his gaze turned to the shadows. "Come out," he said in a voice filled with authority. "I know you are there. You cannot hide from me."

Out of the shadows, stepped two figures. Brothers, if their similar looks were any indication. Their chests were bare, and they both had hair as black as the knight, along with horns coming out of their heads. On their backs were bows and quivers, and in their hands were bronze swords.

It might have also been worth mentioning that from the waist down, they were horses.

"Oh, so the little Godling was able to sense us?" The one on the left said, and Galahad noted he had blue eyes, in opposed to his brother's green. "And here we thought you were entirely naïve to us. No matter! Now we can kill you and get this over with!"

"Who are you?" Galahad demanded, shield ready for combat as his sea green eyes narrowed at the two. These Centaur were twisted, evil. He could tell just from a mere glance at them.

"Lad doesn't know of us, brother!" The one on the right said, laughing, his green eyes burning with twisted desires. "I'm Hylaeus, and this is my brother Rhaecus! Perhaps you've heard of our story?"

Galahad frowned, slowly trying to recall. Hylaeus, and Rhaecus. Yes, it was coming back. Hylaeus and Rhaecus, Centaur brothers, and they were most famous for trying to…

Oh…

_Oh._

Sea green turned into gold as Galahad's rage began to grow. He wasn't just reborn from his Shielder Class, he was reborn from all classes he qualified for within the throne of heroes. He, of course, made the unique Shielder Class. He also made the class of Saber, as a knight it was natural.

However, he also qualified for a third class… _Berserker._

This status as a berserker came from a lesser known version of his legend, where he did not ascend to Heaven upon achieving the grail, and instead returned to Camelot. He would later sleep through the entire battle of Camlann and rush the battlefield and attack who he thought was an enemy in his rage… Only to realise it was Lancelot, his own father, who killed him at the same time. One way the Du Lac line could have ended.

His rank in Madness Enhancement was low, D at most, but it was enough. He felt his anger growing slightly as his golden eyes burned into the twin Centaur. Of all the things Galahad truly detested in this world, nothing was higher on his list than betrayal… And _rape_.

" **Valiant Wall of Snowflakes,** " he whispered, his body being coated in a veil of snowflakes for a moment before it vanishes. He hoisted up his Noble Phantasm, his eyes narrowing on the two Centaur. They continued to give him those cocky grins.

Their grins didn't last.

In the next moment, Galahad vanished from their sights in a burst of speed. His shield slammed into Hylaeus' face with enough force to send the Centaur flying into the opposing wall, along with some broken teeth.

"Brother!" Rhaecus yelled, before snarling at Galahad, charging at him with bronze sword drawn. "You will pay for that!" he roared as he swung down towards Galahad.

"You're too slow," Galahad said, sounding… Disappointed as he merely began to side-step Rhaecus' attempts to cut him down. After a minute of non-stop dodging, Galahad let go of his shield and moved inside of Rhaecus' guard in a single smooth motion.

"Fly away," Galahad told him, before thrusting forwards with his palm as his arm… No, his entire body seemed to rotate to generate extra force. His palm made contact with Rhaecus' stomach… Before his eyes widened in shock as Rhaecus' didn't move so much of an inch. "H-how!?"

"Damn, that hurt brat," Rhaecus growled, using Galahad's momentary shock to his advantage. He kicked him in the stomach and sent him skidding back a few feet. "Heh, your body is surprisingly weak for someone so fast, you know?"

Weak… That was it! How could he have been so foolish as to not notice!? He didn't train his body nearly as much as he did while he was a Knight, meaning his body wasn't even close to the standards of strength he was used to. He'd miscalculated. A Servant reborn he might be, this body was not the body of a Servant.

"Killing you will be even easier than I thought," Rhaecus laughed as his brother made his way out of the wall, walking over with his own sword drawn. "Come now brother, together!"

"Aye, we'll feast on his flesh for the next few weeks," Hylaeus growled in agreement as he raised his own sword above his head.

Galahad's eyes widened. He didn't have any time, he had to act before he lost his life. His shield shot from the ground, blasting over towards him. He caught it as the two began to their charge. He held the shield in front of him firmly, and steeled his heart, ready to activate his Noble Phantasm.

"Woah-ho, Percy!" came one of the last voices Galahad expected, his gaze flying over to see Mr. Brunner rolling by with a wheelchair and throwing a pen towards him.

All at once, everything seemed to move in slow motion. His free hand flew up and caught the pen. No, it wasn't a pen anymore, it was a sword. And as soon as Galahad's gaze landed on the weapon, his eyes widened in shock as he immediately realised it for what it was.

It was a Noble Phantasm.

Mr. Brunner had just tossed him a god damn Noble Phantasm.

Oh wait, scratch that.

Mr. Brunner had just tossed him a god damn Noble Phantasm that had given him its _complete and unwavering allegiance!_

He didn't have much time, he could feel the swords descending, and so Galahad made a risky move that he wouldn't have done under normal circumstances, something he could even consider reckless.

He bound the weapon to his legend.

To bind a Noble Phantasm to your legend, a few conditions had to be met. First, the Noble Phantasm needed to be at least minor in any other legend it was mentioned in, or completely non-existent.

Second, that Noble Phantasm had to give you its unwavering and absolute loyalty. That is to say, it must be sentient enough to give its owner their completely loyalty. About as loyal as Galahad was towards his own King, if not even more than that.

And third, you had to be ready for a hellish amount of pain to be blasted through your head as the knowledge of your new weapon completely filled your mind.

He found a sudden weakness in his legs as nothing but knowledge and information about Riptide filled his head, his grip on his shield slacking as the Centaur's swords slammed into the shield with enough force to make him lose his grip on it and making it fall to the ground. He expected them to immediately attack him in his moment of weakness, but instead he saw them glare to where Mr. Brunner had been.

"Bah, blast that man!" Hylaeus sneered. "Coming into our sights to distract us, and making sure our attacks have less force!"

"It's no issue, brother," Rhaecus told him with a smirk, raising his sword above his head as he stared down at Galahad. "The little Godling will die here, he can't stop us now."

Galahad wasn't paying attention. His gaze was only on Riptide, and he now held the sword with a sense of familiarity. It was like he'd always had this sword, always known this sword, and had fought countless battles with this sword.

He slowly rose up as he faced the two brothers, his golden eyes burning with determination. "I will not lose here, to the likes of you," Galahad denied. "Scum without honour, scum without morals. I, Galahad, shall end you both here with my authority as a Knight!"

With that, Galahad raised Riptide above his head, and focused. He could hear it clearly, as if it were always there. The turning tides, the roar of the oceans, the sounds of the waves against the shore.

What he held in his hands was no longer a mere Celestial Bronze sword. It was a C-Rank Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, a sword he'd obtained centuries ago from a wandering old man who was near death. He trained with this sword endlessly, learning its weight, its reach, everything.

As the swords of the brothers descended on him for a second time, Riptide's blade turned into a shimmering gold. This sword was initially one forged as an Anti-Monster weapon, however it was blessed by the Lady of the Lake and became a Holy Sword, later to be lost when Galahad obtained the grail and ascended to heaven.

" **Riptide.** " Galahad uttered the name of the Noble Phantasm as he swung the sword downwards, and the room was bathed in a golden light, accompanied by the sounds of the roaring waves… And the screams of two dying Centaurs.

When the light cleared, Galahad found himself on one knee, using Riptide to support himself as he panted heavily. Lord Camelot returned to spirit form, vanishing into particles of light.

 _'I used a bit too much mana…'_ Galahad noted. In his haste to end the two Centaurs, he'd poured every single drop of Mana he'd had left into Riptide. It was just enough to activate the weapon, since binding it to his legend was very mana extensive.

Taking a deep breath, Galahad rose and was able to steady himself. His gaze fell on Riptide, the information of his new weapon raw in his mind. It was difficult to discern the fact he'd just added this weapon to his legend, he truly felt like this was his sword all along. But he knew better.

Shaking his head, he willed for the weapon to turn into its concealed form. And within moments, he held a pen, Mr. Brunner's favourite if memory served. He spared one last glance around the room, before he marched through the Museum and back out the front of it.

His gaze flitted around everyone, before his gaze landed on Mr. Brunner. The man seemed to be engrossed in the novel he held in his hands. Galahad walked over, pen in hand. He lifted it up and held it towards the Latin Teacher, "I think this is yours." Well, technically it was still Mr. Brunner's, though the weapon would now only obey Galahad absolutely.

Mr. Brunner looked at Galahad and smiled. "Ah, thank you Mr. Jackson," he said, reaching out. His finger touched the pen… And Mr. Brunner recoiled as if he'd been visibly struck, eyes wide in shock. "On second thought, I believe you should keep that pen Mr. Jackson. After all, one more does not go amiss, yes?"

"… I would appreciate if you did not lie to me, sir," Galahad said curtly. "Whatever magic you are using to fool everyone else, I am not someone who can be so easily tricked. Now, I plead of you: please give me a straight answer."

Mr. Brunner observed Galahad and snapped his fingers and a fresh blast of air past Galahad. "You went inside to eat in peace, and found my pen which had dropped out of my coat pocket, and I allowed you to keep it. You do not remember fighting Hylaeus and Rhaecus."

Galahad's eyes narrowed. "… So, was that attempt at illusion magic the best trick you had?" He asked, making Mr. Brunner shocked that he'd seemed to resist. "I do not appreciate when people attempt to cloud my mind with lies, I've had enough of that for one lifetime. Now… I ask you tell me what you know, or you shall lose what little trust I have left in you."

All at once, Mr. Brunner seemed to slump down and seem as if he had aged several years. "… Very well, Mr. Jackson," he said finally. "But I beg of you, can we wait to discuss this until we reach Yancy? There are delicate words to be said, and Yancy is currently the safest place for discussions to take place."

"… Very well."


	2. The Lost Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lost Sun
> 
> Summary: It's been three years since the Giant War. It's been three years since peace was brought. And it's been three years since Percy Jackson disappeared. They searched and searched, but never found him. Now, Artemis has been assigned to hunt down a man with white hair and bring him to Olympus. Who is this man? Why do the gods seek him out? "O' Agni…"
> 
> Crossovers: Fate/Series + Percy Jackson and the Olympians

"By my authority as King, I call this meeting of the gods to order!" Zeus' voice boomed throughout the throne room of the gods to order. The room glowed a brighter gold, as if acknowledging the King's words.

"Today, I bring forth an order of business regarding the recent disappearance of monsters," Zeus said, prompting many confused looks. "As of late, monsters have been dying far more often than usual. Furthermore, they have not been killed by our own children, or Artemis' hunters."

"What's the problem with that?" Ares asked, sounding bored. "Shouldn't it a good thing something is taking care of the monsters for the little brats?"

"Ordinarily, yes," Zeus agreed. "But that in itself presents an issue of WHO has been doing this, and so efficiently. I called this meeting so suddenly because the mortal managed to escape Iris' eyes, and the only time we can view him in combat."

That surprised many of the gods. That someone who was allegedly mere mortal could avoid Iris' attempts to find him was nothing short of incredible.

"Who could be such a person, father?" Athena asked, clearly interested in who could avoid Iris for so long. She was only second to Apollo when it came to sight.

Zeus waved a hand as a Rainbow appeared. "We shall see," he told her. "Iris, show us the man." He said firmly, and the Rainbow shimmered before they got their first look at the man who had been killing all of the monsters so quickly and efficiently.

The first thing they noticed was, of course, that he was in combat against an entire army of Hellhounds in the middle of the Arizona Desert.

The second thing they drank in was his appearance. He was fair skinned, quite pale even. His hair was also a beautiful, clean white that almost seemed to twinkle in the sunlight. He was dressed in thin black clothing, and golden armour adorned the entirety of his body. Hanging from his neck was a red jewel, and he wore a cloak of purple that wavered and twisted as if it were living fire. On his left ear was an earring, beautiful enough to make Aphrodite squeal at the sight of it.

The last thing they looked at was the weapon in his hands, and it left Hephaestus himself awestruck at the beauty of it. A golden spear, the work of which could have definitely only come from the gods. It was a work of art, something that was nothing less than exquisite to look at.

What caught the gods by surprise was that the man abruptly stopped moving for a moment as he pierced a hellhound with his spear. He turned his gaze, looking straight through the rainbow and at them. The man said nothing, simply staring at them. And they in turn couldn't help but stare at his eyes.

Green. They were the most exquisite shade of sea green the gods had ever seen, and even his face was more handsome than they could believe. Several of the goddesses blushed as they saw him, even a supposed virgin in Athena.

So caught up in staring at him, they were caught by surprise when a hellhound bit his arm. They expected him to at least dodge, or to turn away and yell in pain. Instead, they were taken by surprise as the fangs of the hellhound barely pierced his skin. The man looked down at the beast that bit him, before his spear flashed out and pierced the evil being through its skull. It turned into gold dust.

"I grow tired of this," the man finally said in a soft voice, jumping back away from the monsters. "I hereby sentence you to Tartarus. Rest there for at least a century." With his piece said he simply fell to one knee and held his hands together, as if he were praying.

The monsters took the chance and all jumped at him, fangs out and claws sharpened, ready to take his life. The Gods watched as the monsters all piled in top of him, and surely killing him.

" _O' Agni…_ " That soft voice came, and a pillar of flames shot up and consumed both the hellhounds and the man beneath them. Roars and screams of agony came from the beasts. And within moments, the flames cleared.

He stood unharmed, spear in hand, and all around him the hellhounds were nothing but golden dust. He rested his spear on his shoulder, and began to walk away. Before he paused, turning back and looking at the gods.

"It is impolite to watch people when they are busy working," he spoke, as if he knew they could hear him, and as if he could hear them in turn. "I know you will send someone after me, but I do not blame you. I cannot be left unchecked, after all." And with that piece said, flames burned around his form; and by the time he cleared, he was no longer there.

The image on the rainbow blurred, as if trying to track him, but after a moment or so, Iris appeared in the rainbow instead and shook her head. "I apologise, Lord Zeus. But I just cannot track him, and I simply cannot understand how."

"It is fine Iris," Zeus said, waving the rainbow away. He redirected his gaze to the other gods. "As you can see, this mortal is very dangerous. His skin appears to be so tough that he takes little damage, his spear seems to be made entirely of pure Imperial Gold, and he has power over fire. We cannot just leave him wandering around unchecked. Which is why he needs to be brought here to swear his loyalty to Olympus."

"But father, that sounds like what he wants," Athena said to him analytically. "He said that he knew we'd send someone after him, what if this is a trap we are walking into?"

"We don't really have much of a choice," Hermes pointed out. "Trap or not, we kinda have to bring this guy in. I'm in agreement with pops, too much power to left go unchecked."

"I'll go pick him up!" Ares declared, a grin on his face.

"No," Zeus denied immediately. "For one, you won't be able to even _find_ him. If he can avoid Iris of all people, you stand no chance. Artemis, you shall hunt him down and bring him here. _Alive_. You may use force if needed, but he is to be brought here alive. And preferably _not_ castrated."

Artemis grinned wickedly. Sure castration was off the table, but she could do many things to a boy. Many horrible, awful things. "Very well, father. It shall be done."

"Artemis…" A weak voice came, and everyone's gazes immediately swept to the speaker with an almost pitying look.

Poseidon seemed to have aged several millennia once Percy went missing three years ago. His hair was an ashen white, his skin so pale that he could have been mistaken for a ghost. Where once his sea green eyes showed joy, they were now empty and almost dead. It had taken many talks for Poseidon to even reach _this_ state. He was much worse only a year ago.

"Yes, Poseidon?" Artemis asked carefully. Dealing with Poseidon was now dealing with a minefield.

"If you get any word of Percy… Please…" His voice was soft, almost broken. It was painful for any of the gods to see the once proud God of the Seas in such a horrid state. It wasn't just that Percy had gone missing, but that not once in three years had Percy touched his domain. Not a lake, not a river, not the sea, not an ocean. It hurt Poseidon that his own son, his greatest son, his pride and joy, would no longer want to touch water.

"I will inform you immediately, uncle," Artemis said. "Is there anything else that is required, father?"

"Nothing pressing," he said. "You may go, daughter. And… Be careful."

"Yes, father," Artemis nodded before she vanished into a silver light, returning to the hunt.

"My lady," Thalia greeted her within moments of her return. "Might I enquire as to what the meeting on Olympus was about?"

"We are going on a hunt," she said to Thalia.

"What kind?"

"A _boy_ hunt."

Immediately, Thalia's lips spread into an almost bloodthirsty smirk. "I will inform the hunters to break down camp at once, milady," she said, hurrying away to inform the hunters of their newest mission.

Artemis nodded, and went to deal with her own tent. Yet she couldn't shake a strange feeling…that this hunt would be different than the others.

**-Line Break-**

It had been three days since Artemis and her Hunt were sent to find the white haired man and bring him back to Olympus, by force if needed.

It hadn't been easy tracking him. The only times they were able to try to do so was when he ended up fighting monsters, and they were lucky enough to find a few drops of blood that could be followed by their wolves. But they would always lose the scent, and it was incredibly frustrating.

But on the second day, the man… Stopped. Impossibly, they found him simply sitting in a clearing on top of a log. His legs were spread slightly as he sat, and his hands were pressed together with his eyes closed. His spear was stabbed into the ground next to him, ready to be drawn at a mere moment's notice.

Some of the hunters wanted to move in and apprehend him, but Artemis stopped them, feeling weary about such a relaxed state. Instead, she left Thalia and Phoebe to observe him while the others set up Camp nearby. The orders were obeyed, and Artemis began to organise a battle plan to apprehend him; she was confident he'd try to fight back to save himself.

She decided to wait until the fourth day before moving in, having some hunters rotate in watching him to be sure he didn't move. After all, it wouldn't do to lose their prey so soon after finding him.

And yet, what she learned from her hunters honestly surprised her. The man had no moved so much as an inch for his positioning, only breathing in and out as he seemed to have slept all day and all night. He didn't even wake up to go and eat, or to run away. He just stayed there, fast asleep and ignorant of his fate.

Still, she didn't question her good fortune. Having seen what he could do with people surrounding him, Artemis had the majority of the hunt at the distance, and only seven hunters walking towards him with her.

As soon as they stepped into the clearing, his eyes slowly opened. "I have been expecting you, Lady Artemis," his soft voice came. What irked Artemis was there was no arrogance present in his voice. No haughtiness, nothing to suggest he was boasting. He simply stated it as if it were a fact, like he'd been expecting her to be here at this time.

"Is that so, _boy_?" she asked, holding an arrow towards him. "Then do you also know that, by the order of Zeus, you are to be brought forth to Olympus?"

"I am aware," he said. "And I have no intentions of fighting back. I shall let you take me in peace… But first…"

"First what?" Thalia demanded, eyes narrowed.

In response, the man simply jutted his thumb behind him. "I have an old score to settle with someone, one last time. I ask you to allow me to settle my score with the beast that is coming peacefully."

Artemis' eyes narrowed. "And why should I do that?"

"You do not. It is simply a request," he told her. "But it is my hope you understand one's desire to face someone and settle the score. After all, I doubt you yourself would be satisfied if you were tied in wins and losses to Athena in combat."

That made Artemis falter. Curse him, he made a good point. She would absolutely hate if she and Athena were tied in wins and losses in combat, it would be awful because she'd want to have that nice little extra point that cemented her victory over her sister.

"Fine," she growled. "Hunters! Pull back!"

"But my lady!" Phoebe tried to complain.

"If he is about to die, we shall step in and kill whoever he is fighting, and bring him back to Olympus regardless," Artemis told her.

"You have my thanks, Lady Artemis," he said, having never once looked up at them. Instead, he slowly rose to his feet as the hunters and their goddess backed up. He turned, and a roar was heard as a beast marched out of the forest. One that had Artemis' eyes widening.

Half-man, half-bull. Armour covering its body from the waist down. An axe in the shape of a Greek Omega. The beast the man wished to face alone was the Minotaur.

"You've been chasing me for nearly a year," he told the beast, his hands not even going to the spear. "You can smell it, can you not? My stench, the stench that you hate so much, more than any demigod or god. Above all else, you cannot stand the fact that you have lost to me not once, but twice."

The beast roared loudly, as if confirming his words. Artemis could see nothing but pure hatred in the eyes of the Minotaur as it stared at the young man. There was some kind of grudge, and Artemis didn't understand. Why did the beast hate the man so much?

"We settle this, once and for all, right now," the man finally said, his hands still not going to his spear. "This shall be the final time we face off against each other, beast. As strange as it sounds, it has been an honour to face a beast such as yourself in combat. And out of respect for your determination, I shall strike you with one of my strongest attacks."

The Minotaur roared and began to charge at the man, and still he did not reach for his spear.

"What are you doing!?" Thalia yelled. "Use your spear you moron?"

The man looked back, and gave a soft smile. One that made Artemis' heart stop as she saw another face overlap with that of the man's. Those sea-green eyes, that gentle twinkle in them… They were all just like someone else's. Someone very familiar to the gods.

"Weapons are inadequate," he told Thalia, his left eye turning into a blazing red as he looked back towards the Minotaur. "A true hero can kill with only a stare," unseen to them, something sparked in that crimson eye that stared at the Minotaur. " _Brahmastra!_ "

With that one word, destruction followed. From his eye, a beam of energy surged forth, enveloping the Minotaur. There were no screams, no spoils of war, nothing. Only raw power that shot forth, enveloping the Minotaur and anything that was in the way of the blast. It travelled on… On… And when the crimson energy finally died, a path of destruction and scorched Earth was all that remained from the attack.

Artemis and her hunters were speechless at the sight of the man killing the Minotaur, a powerful beast in its own right, with only his stare.

Turning around, he pulled his spear out of the ground, placed it upon his back. With that, he stepped forwards, offering his wrists. "You may take me now," he told Artemis. "To Olympus."

Artemis was quick to recover, unlike her hunters, and placed the man in the Celestial Bronze cuffs to seal away his powers. "Return to the camp," she told the seven girls. "I shall be taking this man up to Olympus for questioning."

They all hurried to nod and rushed away to the Camp to follow their ladies orders. They would no doubt also tell the other hunters to return as well.

"How nostalgic…" He said softly to himself, though Artemis still heard him, and chose to ignore him as she flashed them up to Olympus.

**-Line Break-**

_'How unpleasant,'_ the man thought to himself as they were flashed up to Olympus. Perhaps for the gods, it was an ideal form of travel. But for a mortal such as him, it was like he was turned upside down and then flipped right side up, all in a split second. And then all the motion registers once a further two seconds have passed, and it hits all at once. It took all he had not to throw up. To his credit, he only stumbled slightly.

Artemis raised a hand, finger glowing with sliver light that shot up. Moments later, the man was greeted to the sight of the Olympian council. _'Ah, how nostalgic…'_ He thought to himself for the second time that day.

His eyes then landed on Poseidon, and it took all he had not to flinch at the sight of the man. He appeared to be a wreck, he looked as if he were about to fade. And that would definitely not be a good thing.

"Father, I have brought the _man_ as you requested," Artemis said, spitting out the word 'man' as if it were poison. She offered the man in question one last glare before flashing to her seat.

"Thank you, daughter," Zeus said, before his gaze fixed on the man. Before he could even speak however, said man fell to one knee.

"Hail Lord Zeus, King of Olympus," he said respectfully, head bowed. Out the corner of his eyes, he saw surprise on the faces of several of the gods, and no doubt their King was surprised as well.

"Err… Yes," Zeus agreed. "Hail me. Now then, rise. And introduce yourself to us, mortal."

Slowly, the man rose and gave them all a smile. "Has it truly been so long that you are unable to recognise me, Lord Zeus?"

The man furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not recognising him. Not that he was surprised.

"And what of you, Lord Apollo?" he asked, shifting his gaze to the Sun God, who shook his head.

Slowly, the man's gaze shifted to Poseidon and he stepped forward. "And what of you, Poseidon?" he asked in a gentle voice. "Do you truly not recognise me? Are you unable to tell who I am?"

Poseidon looked up weakly, and searched Karna's face for something. Anything. "I'm… I don't…"

"Come now, Poseidon. Look into my eyes. I know you, of all people, shall be able to tell who I am."

Poseidon slowly, ever so slowly, leaned forwards and stared into the man's eyes. He searched for something in those eyes, something familiar. And then, suddenly, Poseidon recoiled as if he'd been physically struck.

Apollo was at his side in a moment, checking on him, and the gods glared at the man. Even Zeus raised his master bolt, ready to strike him down. But they were all stopped as Poseidon's broken voice said one name.

"P… Percy?"

Nobody spoke. Nobody could at the sheer impossibility that Poseidon had just suggested. They suspected the man would just deny it, claim to be somebody else.

But he didn't. Instead he smiled softly and nodded. "Indeed, you are correct Father. I am Perseus Achilles Jackson. Son of Poseidon…" He took a deep breath. "And the Legacy of Surya, Hindu God of the Sun."

As soon as those words were spoken, the earrings on his left ear glistened slightly, and a burning sun symbol appeared over his head. There was no bow that came with Apollo's claiming, but pure light and heat.

There was silence… And then pandemonium.


End file.
